


Are The Voices In Your Head Calling?

by TheTinKicker



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTinKicker/pseuds/TheTinKicker
Summary: Tommy Shelby is approached by a mysterious woman with a business proposal and must decide if he cares more about money than loyalty.
Relationships: Arthur Shelby & Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray & Tommy Shelby, Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	Are The Voices In Your Head Calling?

Tommy Shelby kept his head down as he finished off his cigarette. He walked down the dark and dusty street of Small Heath with drunks staggering in all directions. However inebriated they may have been, they knew well to steer clear of Thomas Shelby, or anyone from his family. Between each puff as he made it closer to the brightly-lit entrance to The Garrison, Tommy wondered about the reasons for the call.

The call had come from Polly Gray an hour earlier. Tommy just happened to have been in his office back at the factory instead of the estate. He rolled his eyeballs to overcome the startle of the blaring telephone. He wished that someday there'd be an invention to silence telephones and allow a potential client to leave a message to be heard later. The Shelbys could invent it, one could imagine. It was a fascinating moment in the world's history.

"Tommy, there's a visitor for you here at The Garrison."

"Tell her I'm happily married to Lizzie Stark and she can entertain Finn or even Arthur if you can find them," Tommy muttered, guzzling the remainder of his second glass of scotch. He took a puff of a cigar while awaiting Polly's response. There was a sigh at the other end.

"Not that kind of visitor. A woman walking into our pub doesn't always mean she's going to drop her knickers for you."

"Do I know her from the past? In my experience, it's either her knickers or a bombshell as a result."

"Put it this way," Polly sighed at the other end. She was losing her patience or eager to return to a drink she'd poured herself behind the bar. "You've had some women in France, am I right? Were they all French?"

"As far as I can remember," Tommy shrugged, trying to think past the shells, bullets and whiskey. There were a few nurses, local village girls and even a nun at some stage.

"Then you've never met this woman. Look, we both know you're in town so if you're not too drunk, get off your arse and get it down here right now!" Polly hissed and the call abruptly ended. Tommy could picture her slamming it down for the sake of emphasis.

Tommy pushed through the doors to The Garrison and looked around at the lone drinkers at the counter and with tables to themselves. The only woman he could see was Polly herself. He glanced to his right at the private room reserved for the Shelby family and could see from the lighting inside that it was empty, apart from one person hidden on the other side of the pane. Arthur preferred to get drunk elsewhere to spare himself Polly's rants about how a decent man should behave. Finn was enjoying the local working girls and John was six feet beneath the surface of the earth and therefore his visitor was in the private room.

"Well, come on Polly, spill it," Tommy sighed, signalling the barman to pour him a glass of scotch.

"Your visitor is a woman but there's no bundle of joy, or misery, depending how you look at it. Well, we both know how you look at it," Polly shrugged, leaning against the bar with her elbow on the edge of the counter. "It's a business proposal, rather than a shotgun marriage proposal. She preferred to discuss it with you privately and not with anyone else. I explained who I was but that wasn't enough for the fussy cow."

Tommy frowned with suspicion as the barman placed the glass of scotch onto the surface of the counter. He was surprised that Polly hadn't yanked the glass away from him considering he'd already drank earlier that evening. His business dealings kept the family and their reputation well above water. Even more surprisingly, Polly gave that smirk she usually did when she knew Tommy was going to suffer somewhat to her enjoyment and she signalled the barman to pour him another one.

"You're going to need this one, Tommy, trust me," she nodded.

"Are you at least going to tell me this woman's name? Did she introduce herself?"

"She did. Her English is surprisingly good once you get past the accent. Her name is Gloria Schmidt."

"Schmidt?!" Tommy spluttered, almost spraying out his second glass of scotch all over the floor.

He kept his breathing stable as he was trained to do when a shell would appear out of nowhere and swallowed the scotch. He looked back at Polly, whose evil grin hadn't retreated one bit. She lit a cigarette and blew smoke into his face.

"Polly, I'm pretty sure I killed at least a few blokes by that name in France."

"Just go in and hear what she has to say, Tommy. She wouldn't have come all this way if it wasn't important. You know how her kind are seen today ever since the King decided to call himself Windsor."

Tommy left the glass back onto the counter. The barman raised an eyebrow to ask if he wanted or needed a third and he just shook his head before making his way towards the private room. This Gloria must think very highly of herself or is seriously unstable mentally, Tommy thought. He couldn't be sure if it was concerning or stimulating for him.

#

There was a glass of scotch in her right hand and a half-exhausted cigarette in her left. When Tommy opened the door she glanced to her left and nodded. She already knew where Tommy preferred to sit during meetings and that first impressions were lasting impressions. She left her cigarette into a nearby ashtray and reached over to shake his hand. She certainly wasn't expecting him to kiss it. He was known to be a gentleman at the tracks or in London but this was Tommy Shelby's home ground.

"Good evening, Mr Shelby, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said in her Germanic accent. "Gloria Schmidt."

Tommy shook her hand with deliberate weakness and nodded. He sat opposite Gloria and reached inside his jacket for another cigarette. "I know your name, Fraulein Schmidt. I have to admit when I heard it I was a bit taken aback. I didn't think I'd hear a name like that since France."

"With your business dealings in America and Jews in their banks, I thought you'd see it as inevitable."

It was Michael Gray who ran the business dealings on the other side of the pond and Tommy didn't want to discuss it with Gloria or any strange woman for that matter. He was briefly reminded of Oswald Mosley and his famous recent speeches at the mentioning of Jews in American banks. People were entitled to their own opinions, nonetheless.

"You've done your homework. You must've done some intelligence-gathering during the war on the other side. Possibly intelligence that cost the lives of some of my comrades and friends."

"You were in France, I was in Central Europe gathering information on the Serbians and Russians. So you're familiar with female spies?"

"I doubted any man suspected a woman in those times. Of course, society is far more modern nowadays but any source of company was welcome near the trenches. Take my word for it. Central Europe? You're Austrian, not Prussian?"

Gloria nodded. "From Vienna. The Hapsburgs are gone, our Austro-Hungarian empire was carved up and now it's strictly the First Republic of Austria. I'm not here to discuss politics or our differences of the past, Mr Shelby. I have a seriously profitable business proposal for you."

Tommy blew out smoke and analysed Gloria Schmidt's face and especially her eyes. They were green and sparkled in the overhead light. However, he could read seriousness from her and wondered what playing cards with her would be like.

"Would this business be on the legal side of things? You must surely be aware that I'm an MP in London?"

Gloria finished her whiskey, slid the glass to the centre of the table and picked up her cigarette once more. "When has that ever bothered you, Mr Shelby? I understand you're helping the Chinese transport opium through your canals. My proposal isn't all that different."

"Who are your sources?"

"You want me to tell you so you can track them down and 'gut the bastards' as you Englishmen tend to say?"

"Loyalty is important to me."

"More important than money? Some would consider that a weakness."

"I thought it was the Swiss who had a preoccupation with money and not Austrians or Krauts?"

"The British blockade and the Treaty of Versailles has been causing starvation and poverty so I'm pretty certain that money matters most. You don't own the racetracks because you love looking at horses, Mr Shelby. Will you now allow me to make my proposal?"

Tommy gave a gesture with his hand and leaned back into his comfortable booth, taking another puff from his cigarette.

"You and your partners undoubtedly enjoy the occasional snort of cocaine. However, criminalisation is right around the corner in my opinion. We have prohibition in the United States so it isn't an unjustified belief. My organisation is involved in bringing product from the growers in former Spanish colonies in South America and into Europe. Our vessels travel north through the Atlantic without any issues passing the Portuguese Azores. Our problems begin at the English channel. Your Royal Navy patrols it like a hawk and we need a way to get it past the UK without arousing suspicion and under protection. For the right price, of course."

"What would be a right price to you, Fraulein Schmidt?"

"Two million for allowing us to pass."

The cigarette dangled out of Tommy Shelby's mouth as he raised his eyebrows. He stared intensely at Gloria to make sure he'd heard her right. Two million just for watching her move a product that neither he nor his men will ever touch? There was easy money and there was this.

"The war is in the past Mr Shelby. The twenties and thirties shall be a time for business and profits. Beauty arising from the ashes of horrific conflict."

"Yes, shear beauty, indeed," Tommy nodded, glancing below Gloria's eyes towards her neck and chest. She was dressed appropriately for a night at a public house but not appropriately for Tommy himself. He preferred less clothing, far less.

There was a blushing beam from Gloria before she extended her hand. "Do we have a deal, Mr Shelby. Or would you prefer a written agreement? I have the feeling your elder sister out there distrusts me."

"Polly's my aunt and she views most women in my life as vultures," Tommy shrugged. After Grace Burgess' betrayal involving the stolen guns fiasco, one could hardly blame a woman as experienced as Polly Gray.

"You can call me Tommy, by the way," he nodded, shaking her hand.

As soon as he finished the sentence, he heard aggressive mumbling in the background and soon recognised the two disputing voices outside. One was Polly Gray, unsurprisingly and the other was Arthur Shelby. Tommy rolled his eyeballs, then sighed and warned Gloria to brace herself.

#

The doors slammed open and Arthur Shelby stood there with an empty bottle of scotch in his right hand. He'd clearly been enjoying his evening and there was no sign of his wife Linda, which probably explained the enjoyment. Tommy often wondered what Arthur had been thinking, marrying a woman of god. He then realised it was rather rich coming from him considering his first wife was a spy for The Crown and his second a local prostitute.

Arthur nodded at Tommy and then snapped his glare towards Gloria. He left the bottle onto the table and ran both his hands through his hair before leaning forward and sniffing Fraulein Schmidt's blond hair. She wasn't intimidated at all and just turned her head towards the window slightly and looked at Tommy. What was Arthur playing at?

"I smell shit," he hissed, waiting for Gloria to turn back and look him directly into the eyes. "The last time I smelt shit was in the trenches in France."

"I'm Austrian, not German."

"I didn't see a Kangaroo on my way in."

"Arthur, Austrian. Austrian!" Tommy said, leaning forward and placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. There were very few people on earth who could do that and expect to keep their fingers or even their hand afterwards.

"You Krauts are all the same to me," Arthur hissed, before spitting on the floor by her feet. "Pure filth! Scum of the earth. What's this whore been telling you, Tommy, eh?"

"She has a deal for us Arthur," Tommy said, storming to his feet and forcing Arthur to turn and face him. "A very profitable deal that'll get you more booze and keep Linda of your arse for that bit longer. More money for everyone, brother, eh? Isn't that what we do this for? Hear the woman out!"

Other than clarifying her nationality, Gloria Schmidt stayed quiet for the entire exchange between the Shelby brothers and watched as Tommy sat back down and shifted towards the window to allow Arthur to join him. She stayed calm and quiet as Arthur took out a revolver, checked the wheel and pulled the hammer back before folding his arms. She then explained the deal once more even though Tommy had already shook on it. Tommy ruled the roost and not Arthur. The Peaky Blinders would not have lasted as long otherwise.

"I'll have my eye on you, Miss Shit!" Arthur growled like an angered dog once he'd been briefed.

"It's Schmidt, and you can keep your eye on the two million I'll be paying you, in cash I should add," Gloria said, expecting such aggressive language from Arthur Shelby. She was just glad she found Tommy first. She suggested that they make arrangements in the near future in case any questions occur to the Shelbys between now and then. It gave Arthur a glimmer of trust but that had eroded as quickly as it had formed. She was still a German speaker regardless of her country of birth.

Gloria gave Tommy the name of her hotel before leaving the room and then The Garrison. The flapping doors to the private room gave Tommy a glimpse of Polly Gray, still leaning by the bar. She glared after Gloria through the smoke of her cigarette.

"Tommy, I don't like this one bit! We fought these bastards in France and now we're doing business with them! What the fuck has the world come to?" Arthur said, before calling out at the barman to hurry along with a glass of scotch.

Tommy crossed his legs and smoked, looking out at the street through the window. "Arthur, times are changing. The world stops for no one and we have to move with it. Remember those French sisters we had before returning home? They were fond of that Chinese opium?"

Arthur smirked, looked down and chuckled. He had to thank his lucky stars that they were in separate rooms. Tommy probably would've had him committed to an asylum if he'd seen the things he'd done with the sister who accompanied him after a smoking session.

"You remember don't you, you filthy fuck," Tommy chuckled. "One of them told us about the future. How to live a post-war life. What was it she said again?"

"Fight the ocean...and you shall drown," Arthur nodded, quoting her word for word.

He couldn't remember her name or her sister's but he could recall every millimetre of her body and how she moved. She loved to be in control and he didn't mind. Linguistics or anything even remotely related to education wasn't a strength of his. In fact, anything that didn't involve his fists wasn't a strength of Arthur's. However, he reckoned if he'd spent enough time with the women, he would've learnt French in no time.

"It's a good deal Arthur. I'll personally keep an eye on her," Tommy sighed, getting to his feet and fixing his jacket. "I doubt she's brought her own unit of ex-soldiers with her. They'd stick out like broken fingers. Enjoy your drink, brother and I shall see you later."

"You'll be keeping an eye on her, eh?" Arthur said, nudging him with his shoulder. "Is that all you'll be keeping on her? Whatever filthy things you have planned for her, make sure she breathes long enough to give us the cash," he added, tapping the side of his head and winking.

#

"So, they bought it?" the voice on the other end asked. Gloria was back at her hotel and comfortable enough with her surroundings to use her mother tongue. She'd perfected her UK accent to the point of coming across as a west-Londoner. She held the receiver and looked at the street below. No automobiles had parked up, nor was there any sign of the dark suit and cap approaching the entrance.

"Indeed. Two million will capture the attention of even the wealthiest man or organisation," she replied. "The Shelbys lost a lot in the Wall Street Crash and are reverting back to old ways to rebuild their empire. With our friend Mosley keeping him on his toes in the British Parliament, Thomas Shelby will be all the more likely to make a mistake on which we can capitalise."

"He's already made the mistake of shaking your hand, Fraulein. He knows your hotel and that you're staying in Birmingham for the time being?"

She nodded verbally.

"You may be Austrian but you'll be doing The Fatherland a great service. Don't ever forget that."

"I shall not forget it," Gloria replied confidently.

The idea of allowing a man like Tommy Shelby to use her for her body for a night or a few nights in a row wasn't an unpleasant prospect. He was very handsome after all and he'd oozed confidence before even opening his mouth back at the bar. What concerned Gloria Schmidt was how and if she was found out. Wasn't it inevitable? Becoming Arthur Shelby's punching bag was a real possibility judging from their recent face-to-face encounter.

Then came a knock on her hotel door.

The man on the other end of the line had heard it too and advised her to end the call, assuming it was Tommy Shelby. It was no secret that one of Mr Shelby's weaknesses was women. She looked down and was reminded that she was in a salmon-coloured nightgown, rather difficult for him to resist.

"Very well, we shall talk later," she confirmed.

Then came the two words that Gloria and her employers used when ending calls and conversations in-person. The voice on the other end said them first and Gloria was expected to repeat them to assert her loyalty, be it in question or not. Loyalty was paramount.

"Heil Hitler," she quietly said before hanging up the phone, leaving it on the bedside table and stepping over towards the door to welcome Tommy Shelby into her bed.


End file.
